Wind blew! The sand enveloped the body,Whatever little life left, is to see the beloved.

These Naangas go to HinglajTo see Mother Kali,They have been to Dwarka,These worshippers of Shiva.There is nothing like themOn the FrontierOr in SindhOr in Hindustan!They have woven their souls in Rama:Inside of them, there is only Rama:Where Shiva oversees, that is where they settle.I am conversant with the YogisWho always seek the sun.All the hours of the day, their eyes are on mother Kali.